


Two Sides Of A Coin (can't exist without each other)

by Serie11



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Injury Recovery, Kairi Lives, M/M, Memory Loss, Memory Magic, Minor Injuries, Minor Kairi/Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Post-Battle, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Sharing a Body, Sora Lives, Sora's Heart Hotel, dive to the heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 05:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18958654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serie11/pseuds/Serie11
Summary: Xehanort is gone, but a part of Ven is crying out for something he’s lost – even if he doesn’t know what that is. There’s a scrap of memory rolling around his heart, refusing to die even when all the odds are stacked against his survival; someone Ven thought was long gone.Maybe Vanitas has the answers that Ven can’t find on his own.





	Two Sides Of A Coin (can't exist without each other)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookwormally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormally/gifts).



Ven sits with his head bowed, shoulders and body aching. His hands hang between his knees and he stares at his knuckles absently. There’s blood crusted on two of his nails on his left hand, and in the knuckles of his right. He still feels like he’s dreaming.

“Ven? Are you alright?”

He makes himself look up at Aqua, shadows under her concerned eyes. He smiles, and hopes it doesn’t look too forced.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, ya know?”

She nods and reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder. “Just checking in. If you need anything, make sure you let someone know.”

“I will,” Ven says, voice flat. Aqua’s eyebrows draw together and he tries to make up for it by widening his smile, only to realise that he’d stopped smiling. Aqua almost looks like she wants to say something, but Terra calls for her from the other side of the gummi ship, and she squeezes his shoulder before walking off quickly. Ven lets out a sigh but makes sure that it’s silent. He doesn’t need anyone else asking how he is. He doesn’t know if he has any more bluff in him.   

He’d found a rock to sit on just near Sora’s gummi ship, where he can watch the comings and goings of the people. Riku ducks inside and Mickey, Goofy and Lea follow him. Kairi comes out of the ship and goes over to talk to Roxas, before they both head inside again. Ven should get up and find a seat inside, too. That wouldn’t make him stand out, wouldn’t make it obvious that there’s a hollow ache in his chest that has nothing to do with the bruises on his skin. They would all see him there and nod and think that’s where he belongs, where he should be.

He doesn’t think he can stand their eyes on him right now.

“Ventus?”

Ven flinches and then berates himself for doing so. If there were any more enemies around, he’d be useless in a fight. He’s far too on edge, nerves jittery and mouth dry, mind unfocused, spinning, waiting for something that’s not coming. He looks over his shoulder to see Xion standing there, hands tucked behind her back. Something ugly tries to crawl up his throat but he cuts it down. She doesn’t deserve his ire just because she was able to come back to their side and –

He clenches his jaw and doesn’t continue that thought. Xion watches him quietly and then comes to stand next to him. Her voice is lowered when she speaks.

“I… How are you?”

It’s a deflection, a different question than what she wanted to ask. Ven looks at her and something is so _familiar_ about her – maybe it’s just because she’s connected to Sora, just like he is. Or maybe not.

“I’m as fine as everyone else,” Ven bounces right back at her. Xion’s eyes are a dark blue, her bangs framing her face. He thinks she might be staring at him just as searchingly as he is staring at her. He knows her. He _knows_ her.

He’s never seen her before in his life.

“We know each other,” Xion says simply. Ven can’t bring himself to disagree. Instead he looks away. He doesn’t want to talk to her – he doesn’t want to talk to anyone. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. He should be happy. He has Aqua and Terra. He doesn’t have –

 _Why_ is he feeling like this? Now, of all times? What’s wrong with him?

“You’re familiar,” Ven admits. He doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say. He knows what he _wants_ to ask, but…

“Roxas called my heart back from Sora,” she says, voice still low. “You were in there with us, weren’t you? You, and Vanitas.”

Ven’s heartbeat is suddenly loud in his ears. He feels – too full, and empty at the same time. “I… I don’t,” he tries to say. He has no memories of what happened in the last decade. An impression of a dream, maybe. A blue sky, and sand beneath his feet. An island, a paradise shared with others. “I don’t know,” he finally says, and it’s a copout. He does know. “Do you… remember?”

“Not really,” Xion says. “I think we were friends, though.”

“Do you remember anything about being with Xehanort?” Ven asks, biting his lip. “Anything about Vanitas?”

“Not much,” Xion admits. “But I don’t think the Vanitas out there on the field was the same one in Sora’s heart with us. I think Xehanort did something to him. He was always paying attention to him… I think he remembered more than me. I was just a puppet, to be used and cast aside, without any thoughts of my own. He was different.”

“And Xehanort tried to stamp it out,” Ven murmurs, more to himself than her. There’s an echoing confirmation in his heart, something vicious that wasn’t there before they came here. Ven resists the urge to put his hand on his chest and makes himself stand, even though his knees feel like they want to give out. “We should go. Everyone will be waiting for us.” He needs to conform. He feels too frail to answer any probing questions, like one glance the wrong way will shatter him into pieces, light finally falling into a dark abyss.

“Right,” Xion says. Ven takes a step and tries not to look like it uses up all the rest of his energy. He still has to make it to the gummi ship. So he takes another step, and another, and doesn’t know where he finds the strength. Ven leads the way, and doesn’t look back at Xion. He needs to figure out this queasiness in his chest before he tries to deal with anyone else.

* * *

 

Sora drives the gummi ship back to Yen Sid’s Tower and Ven almost asks Aqua if she can carry him out to somewhere he can sleep. He’s so tired – he’s been sleeping for so long that he should never feel tired again, but the urge to close his eyes is almost overwhelming. He staggers out of the ship and asks Sora if there’s a spare room he can nap in. Sora and Terra help him to a room, Ven’s arm thrown around Terra’s shoulders. He should be more ecstatic about that, but he can only think about the heaviness in his chest and the pull of sleep. He gets in the bed that Sora points to, pulls the blanket on the bed over his head, and promptly falls asleep.

He’s not surprised when he opens his eyes and he’s standing on a stained glass pillar.

It’s the image he remembers, wayfinders encircled behind a picture of himself, but the colours are different. The four wayfinders are orange, blue, green and… red. Ven stares at them for a long few seconds, stubbornly studying the image instead of facing the person he can feel behind him. Some part of him wants to ask _why is he here_ , but another part already knows the answer. As long as Ven is alive, his shadow is always going to be by his side.

Slowly, he turns around. With his legs over the side of the pillar, Vanitas sits on the edge of the platform, his dark hair almost blending in with the murky blackness that creeps in on the edges of Ven’s heart. He’s not wearing the sickly dark muscle suit, but is instead garbed in clothes that eerily resemble Ven’s own, but with the blacks and whites inverted.

Ven feels his throat close up at the sight of him. He’s suddenly hit with the knowledge that he’s missing something, missing something _vital_ , something that he shouldn’t have to live without, something that makes him lacking, even more incomplete than he already is. He doesn’t know if that makes him angry or just tired. He’s so _sick_ of not knowing.

“Vanitas,” he says quietly. “You’re here.”

Vanitas doesn’t move from where he’s staring out into the darkness that surrounds Ven’s heart. Ven twists his hands into fists, bites his lip. The something that’s missing has to do with Vanitas, he knows it. But… what is it?

Vanitas snorts out something that could have been a laugh, if Ven was feeling charitable and labelled it as such. He isn’t. “Where else would I be? I told you. I’m the darkness to your light. Wherever you go, I follow.”

Ven’s nails bite into the flesh of his palm. “And _I_ told _you._ We should be free to choose whatever we want to be.” This is an old argument. They’ve had this fight before. The tiny spring of information just makes Ven’s cheeks flush further with anger.

Vantias shakes his head, still staring out into the abyss. “Some things aren’t that easily changed.”

Ven bites back a wave of frustration. “Only if you don’t fight to change it! After all this time, after all this fighting, _now_ is when you give up? What about what we went through! Are you just going to forget about all that?”

Vanitas laughs, a sharp, cutting sound that might actually injure Ven, seeing as they’re in the most vulnerable part of himself. “Stop fighting? How the hell do you think I’m still here? You killed me and I’m still alive – I call that fighting. I’m fighting every second, even just to be here and talk to you. You don’t get it – always the pampered life, always a hand held out to help you. You can’t help me! You don’t know what it’s like to suffer life I did. You understand _nothing._ Your words are meaningless!”

“Well then explain! You can’t just say that I can’t help and not even offer me a chance to!”

Vanitas’s hands are gripping the side of the station. Ven sees them tighten, like he’s getting ready to fling himself off the edge, or trying to prevent himself from doing so. He half wonders if Vanitas is going to break the glass of the station with how white his knuckles are.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says tersely. “Don’t wade into things you don’t know the meaning of, and don’t say stupid things.”

“Then lay it out,” Ven challenges. “Tell me what I have to do. _Explain_ , so I don’t say anything stupid.”

Slowly, so slowly, Vanitas turns his head until he’s facing Ven. His eyes are hidden behind the dark fall of his hair. Ven wants to see them, an ache that fills his entire being. “You say we get to choose what we are? Then prove it.”

Ven takes a half step back at the sudden change in his tone, turned from the bratty anger he recognises to a deeper and uncomfortable rumble. Vanitas looks up at him and Ven’s stomach twists as he sees his own green eyes in Vanitas’s face. He knows that Vanitas is a part of him – but somehow, he knows that those eyes are the exact same ones that he has. Vanitas has copied them, or stolen them, or inherited them somehow, etched Ven’s design into himself. The only thing that differentiates them is the hard set and the desperation he’s never seen in his own reflection before.

“Vanitas –” he whispers, holding a hand out to help him, to push him off the edge, to draw him into his chest. He doesn’t know. _He doesn’t know._

Vanitas’s face twists, an expression that makes Ven nauseous just because of all the pain in it. “Go away – go and leave me to this place, this tiny spot where you’ve trapped me. Leave me alone.”

“Vanitas,” Ven repeats. He wants to help. He wants to understand. He sympathises, in a way that maybe only he could. No one else is like them. Only they can truly, really, understand each other. Halves of each other’s whole. The push and pull of the tide. The moon, and the darkness that curls over it.

“I SAID LEAVE!” Vanitas bellows. A dark wind whips through the station, and Ven puts his hands in front of his face to try and protect himself from it, but is only caught up as the wind carries him to the surface.

* * *

 

 

He wakes up to a ringing headache. There’s still blood on his hands and Ven spends a long time staring at the dark streaks, trying to assemble what just happened in some sort of coherent order in his head. There’s a kind of secrecy that shrouds what happens at the heart stations, something that dulls memories of what happens there. The only thing that Ven knows for sure is that Vanitas is still alive, and is trapped inside his heart. Everything else – he doesn’t know. He’s starting to get tired of admitting that.

He carefully pushes open his door, but there’s no one else in the room with him, and no one outside in the corridor. He still creeps through the Tower quietly as he tries to find some type of bathroom. He thinks it’s the middle of the night because no one else seems to be awake – or maybe he wandered into an abandoned part of the Tower. There aren’t any windows anywhere, which is more off putting than he would have thought. Not that it would matter, with the outside of the Tower being suspended in a starry night.

The Tower seems to have endless corridors and stairs and rooms, all magically connected together. He opens a door and the next corridor branches in ways that shouldn’t be possible considering where he just walked, but this Tower doesn’t make any sense anyway, so he just accepts it.

When he does find a bathroom, he spends longer than he needs to, standing at the sink and scrubbing his hands. When he sees new blood stain the water, he carefully turns the tap off and looks up to meet his own expression.

Vanitas stares back.

Ven jerks back but a second later it’s just himself again. Blond hair, green eyes, ripped up shirt that’s still filthy. He’d take a shower but he doesn’t have anything else to wear. Ven puts a hand over his eyes and takes a deep breath.

_You say we get to choose what we are? Then prove it._

“What does that mean?” Ven murmurs, starting at his reflection. It remains flat and unchanging. The only thing it reflects is his own questions. Frustrated, he drags a hand down his face and then leaves. He won’t find any more answers here.

He walks up more corridors fruitlessly, refusing to admit that he’s lost. He’d probably have a better chance of getting back to the room he was sleeping in if he tries to remember the route he took while walking away from it, but there’s no use thinking about that because he can’t change it. Just another thing he can’t change, just another thing he has to accept. Ven pushes on, because that at least he can do.  

He finally opens a door into a kitchen. Aqua is sitting at the table, staring at a cup in front of her. It has either tea or coffee in it, but it’s clearly cold. Ven doesn’t think any of the liquid inside has been drunk, because the cup is still full.

“Aqua?” he asks gingerly.

She looks at him but clearly knew he was approaching before he even touched the door. “Hey Ven,” she says tiredly. “You can’t sleep?”

He looks away. He doesn’t even know how he’d try to explain his dream, let alone even if he wants to. So he just shrugs instead. “I just wanted to come and check on everyone. And now that I’m not as exhausted, I’m realising my clothes are a bit dirty, ha. You wouldn’t know where I could find some other ones around, do you?”

Aqua frowns at him. “No, but I can fix those ones up.” She summons her Keyblade, and Ven stares at Master Defender and feels nothing. He can’t let himself feel anything, because then he thinks he’d just start crying, and he doesn’t know if he’d be able to stop.

Aqua doesn’t meet his eyes as she taps his shoulder. Ven squints his eyes shut as a dazzle of light overtakes him. When he looks at his clothes again, they’re still a bit dusty, but all the blood has been removed and all the tears have been fixed. He grins at Aqua, genuinely grateful.

“Thanks Aqua!”

The corner of her mouth tilts up, but the look in her eyes doesn’t change. “Anytime. I know you’re likely to get into scrapes, so I doubt that’s the last time I’m going to have to use that spell.”

“Hey,” Ven protests. He drags a chair out and sits opposite Aqua, who wraps her hands around her cup as if she actually might drink some of it. “Aqua… can I ask you a question?”

Her mouth goes tight, but she nods anyway. “Of course, Ven. You can ask me anything.”

He laces his fingers together, then unlaces them, then puts them flat on the table. “What was it like… in the Realm of Darkness?”

Aqua doesn’t reply or move. Ven looks up at her to find her looking at him, but with eyes unfocused, unseeing.

“Quiet, most of the time,” she finally says, voice low. “The Heartless would attack, but always suddenly… as soon as I had defeated them, they left me along for a while. I think the Realm of Darkness is endless in a way the Realm of Light isn’t. There aren’t enough Heartless to fill the space, so I could fit in between the cracks. Other than that… lonely. I was by myself for so long, loneliness was mostly what I felt. I didn’t know what happened to Terra, or if you were still safe.”

“You were trapped,” Ven says softly.

“Yes,” Aqua nods. “I only had myself for company. And sometimes… she didn’t say very nice things.”

Ven thinks about that. About strong, fearless Aqua, by herself for so long, the darkness pressing down on her without end. And she had hope – had the knowledge that Ven was safe, that maybe she had helped Terra. Mickey was there at the end to aid her when her drive failed. What if she had no one, and nothing, from the very beginning? What if she had nothing to buoy her spirit, and no hope at all? No happy memories to keep her going?

“Are you feeling okay? Why do you want to know?”

Ven shrugs one shoulder. “I just want to know what you went through. And maybe you want to talk about it, you know?”

Aqua gives him a grateful look, but he can tell that it’s forced. “Thank you, Ven. If I need to talk about anything with you, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay,” Ven says. He doesn’t know if he believes her or not. The Aqua he remembers, the Aqua he spent years with, training alongside – he trusts her. But the Aqua in front of him is years removed from that girl, battles etched into her skin and shadows edging her expression. He doesn’t think he knows the woman sitting at the table at all.

“Go and shower and then go back to sleep,” she tells him gently, so gently. How much is she gentling herself for him? “Just ask the Tower for where you want to go, and it will guide you there.”

“Right,” Ven sighs. As he closes the door behind him, he realises that Aqua had made no move to find a bed for herself. The cup she’s holding remains full.

* * *

 

Ven wakes up groggy, and the rest of the day doesn’t improve much from there. He’d had such a small time to wake up before the final battle, and his body is punishing him for that now, demanding that he take the time to recover.  Time seems drawn out and grey in a way he’s never experienced before.

Not many of the others are much better off. Roxas and Xion appear around lunch time, still yawning, and although Lea teases them about how he’s now the one who gets the least sleep of their trio, Ven can tell that he’s worried.  He hasn’t seen Terra since they all fell out of the gummi ship yesterday, and he doesn’t want to seek him out or disturb him even though he wants to see him. If anyone in the Tower has earned their rest, it’s Terra.

They’re all a bit of a mess. Ven sits on a bit of roof and watches as Aqua attempts to guide Sora, Riku and Kairi through a command style change. It’s a pretence at normality, charged with undertones of war, but Ven thinks that even if it’s pretending, it’s something they all need. Time will seal most of their wounds, but routine is also helpful for recovery. When Ven went to the Land of Depature the first time and was recovering his heart, Master Eraqus always made sure to lay out a schedule and stick to it precisely. Ven knows that doing that helped him through his first few months. Hopefully, it can do something for his friends, too. It doesn’t feel real that they were all fighting just yesterday.

Aqua casts blizzard, fire, and two lightning spells in quick succession, and then bursts into light as she enters her spellweaver style. At least that hasn’t changed, even if the efficiency sends a chill of unease down Ven’s spine. How many times did she have to do that in the Realm of Darkness?

“Wow, that’s so cool!” Sora exclaims. “You did it so fast, too.”

“Aqua’s just really good at it,” Ven yells down, adding his own piece of advice.

Aqua looks up and him and nods at the compliment. “Ven is right. I’ve been practising this for many years. You all will probably have a harder time with it. Entering your command style for the first time is always the hardest.”

Ven hears Sora’s groan, even from where he’s sitting. He watches the trio for another ten minutes, Aqua standing beside them and trying to explain the exact way she enters her own command style. After another five, Ven leaps down to stand next to them.

“Aqua, you gotta remember that we’re all gonna approach this differently,” Ven reminds her. “Let me show them my style.”

“Yeah, maybe we’ll get yours better,” Sora sighs. Kairi leans against him, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. Ven’s throat goes tight as he sees their familiarity. He wants – what? Someone to lean on? He’s sure that he could go to anyone and they would support him. Is it because Sora and Kairi are dating? Does he envy that closeness? Is the curl of anger in his belly targeted at that?

Aqua nods, and Ven tries to focus on one of the targets she’s set up, trying to ignore his churning thoughts and what they might imply. He leads with a quick blitz, then a strike raid, and just as his Keyblade is returning to his hand, he feels something cold slither up his arm from his gut.

Ven hesitates, even though the other four are watching him.

“Ven? Is something the matter?” Aqua asks, concern clear in her voice.

“It’s – I don’t know. Something strange,” Ven admits.

“Well, try it out,” Kairi suggests. “At least you’ll know what it is, then.”

“Right,” Ven says, even though there’s a twist of unease in his belly. He takes a breath and then performs another quick blitz, trying to recall that strange feeling. As his Keyblade descends, a sudden wreathe of shadow cloaks it, setting the target aflame. Ven hadn’t realised that dark fire was _cold_ before.

He instinctively follows up with faith, and as soon as the pillars of light have died down he feels the bubble of power in him burst as he’s overcome with a command style. It crawls up his throat and he has to resist the urge to choke on it; he spits it out instead, letting the power swirl through him and out of him instead of keeping it inside to burst. He shakes his head and blinks, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around himself to try and warm himself up. Dark fire flickers around him, stealing all the warmth from the air, balanced by small balls of light that circle him slowly.

Aqua has her hand over her mouth and the three others look as surprised as Ven feels. “Huh,” he says, twirling his Keyblade in his hand like normal. It shimmers and a second later he’s holding Lost Memory. It suits this command style.

Ven clears his throat. “Like you see, guys. Sometimes it just calls to you. You just have to let it run its course.”

“Hmm,” Sora says, putting a finger under his chin thoughtfully. Ven tries not to find it adorable. Riku and Kairi obviously don’t have the same filter as him, because he has to watch them turn sappy eyes on Sora. “It sounds kinda like anti-form. I chose to use my drive forms, but sometimes that would just… sneak up on me. I couldn’t stop it.”

“I haven’t seen you use a drive form, but it sounds similar,” Aqua says. She steps around Ven, and Ven notes the careful perimeter she leaves him. The spellweaver glow has faded from her skin, but Ven knows that she could call it back up as quickly as she likes.

“I’ll let you guys keep practising,” Ven quickly says, dismissing himself. He uses his shotlock to jump to the roof of the tower again like Sora showed him, and then jumps through one of the windows, leaving their prying eyes behind.

It only takes a minute to get back to the room he’s decided to call his, and by that time the dark and light aura around him has faded. Ven stares at his reflection in the mirror and tries to see if there’s anything different about him, anything that could have signalled the darkness that had crawled across his skin.

“Was that you?” Ven asks the mirror awkwardly, whispering even though he’s alone. It doesn’t count as talking to himself if he’s trying to talk to someone else, right?

_Are you really going to try and make that distinction?_

Ven’s mouth goes dry. “Well, one option does make me seem a little less crazy.”

_Both options are exactly the same. We’re the same person, idiot._

“No we’re not,” Ven says easily. As much as he doesn’t know, he’s certain about that. He and Vanitas diverged years ago. “You know that we’re not the same. We’re just… connected.”

He doesn’t get an answer. Ven sighs and runs a hand over his face, considering. What is he supposed to do now?

* * *

 

The Tower seems to know what he wants, because Ven finds an empty room before too long. A second after he enters, he hears the quiet sound of enemies appearing, and he calls forth his Keyblade again. It’s still Lost Memory.

“Okay, let’s try this,” Ven says, getting into his ready position.

The Nobodies are strong, and he’s not particularly used to fighting them, but he can still defeat them without too much difficulty. He steels himself before casting salvation, and then tries for another dark blitz. The dark fire coating his Keyblade looks so strange, and it feels out of place. Now that he’s aware of what it is, it only takes a second to recognise that he’s using negativity, not darkness. Vanitas must have given over some of his power when he returned to Ven’s heart.

After he enters the new command style, he leaps forward with his heart in his throat. The dark fire and the orbs of light seem to have half a mind of their own, attacking nearby enemies without any input from Ven. It half reminds him of how the unversed acted, which is a comparison he doesn’t know how to feel about.

He feels the beat of a finisher in him and lets it loose. His Keyblade jolts in his hand and he spins, light shining so brightly that even he can’t look at it. A second later darkness seeps out to replace the light, clinging and burning to everything it touches. Ven comes to a stop and raises his Keyblade above his head, letting out a shout. Twin beams of light and dark complete a circle around him, before the power fades from his skin. There aren’t any more Nobodies in the room.

Ven takes a breath, surveying the area. There’s smoking lines in the ground from where his lasers of light hit, and some other patches are still smouldering with the strange fire that isn’t completely dark. He rubs a hand through his hair and then sits. He can’t put this off for any longer. He needs to talk to Vanitas again.

He’s still feeling tired, so it doesn’t take long for him to drift off. Warm darkness pulls him down, down, and he keeps his goal fixed in his mind. When he opens his eyes again, his heart station is glowing softly under his feet, its appearance the same as it was last night.

Vanitas is sitting on top of the red wayfinder this time, hands linked loosely in his lap, his eyes closed. Ven isn’t fooled; he can tell that Vanitas is as aware of him as he is of Vanitas.

“Ventus,” Vanitas drawls. “You’ve come back.”

“Way to state the obvious,” Ven replies. He hesitates, unsure. Finally, he goes and sits in the circle next to Vanitas, on top of the wayfinder made of green glass.

“Not sure why you’ve even bothered,” Vanitas says. He still hasn’t opened his eyes. “You can talk to me from when you’re up there as well as you can from in here. I can hear you.”

“But you don’t always talk back,” Ven points out. “So I have to come down here.”

Vanitas finally cracks an eye, and Ven doesn’t react to the glimmer of green.

“If you’re not going to say anything interesting, I’m not going to reply.”

Ven tightens his jaw. “Vanitas – please. Work with me here. We… something happened, between us, didn’t it? It’s just out my reach… I know Xion and Roxas, and I _know_ you.”

“We were in Sora’s heart together,” Vanitas grudgingly admits. “I remember… impressions. That heart isn’t ours, so we shouldn’t remember being there. Just because we were trapped together – that doesn’t mean anything. Or do you think your paltry display up there just now was enough to convince me?”

“I think I’ve already convinced you,” Ven says softly. He moves a bit closer to Vanitas. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, and you know what? Mostly, I feel annoyed. I think we’ve already been through all this. _Please_ can you just – just think about it?”

Vanitas has his chin lifted high, as if that will stop Ven from putting a hand on his thigh. Vanitas doesn’t feel like anything. He’s just another part of Ven’s heart. It makes him ache. Vanitas was only ever compared to him, was only ever given anything because Xehanort thought it would make him more useful. Vanitas deserved _so_ much more than that, and Ven wants to give it to him.

He doesn’t know if anyone has ever asked Vanitas what he wants to do. Vanitas is curled in his heart, and Ven just wants him to have a _choice_. Everyone deserves a choice.

“It’s your decision,” Ven whispers.

“It’s not,” Vanitas says, and his voice cracks on the second word. “I’m trapped here. I’m just a part of your heart now, except for some reason I’m still _me_ instead of just merging back with you like I should have. I’m just here, _useless_.” He spits the last word, as if that could hide the twist of pain in it.

“You’re still here because we’re not the same anymore,” Ven insists. “You shouldn’t be here. You should be out there, proving to everyone that we do have a choice. You’re not everything Xehanort made you do. I know that.”

Vanitas’s mouth twists. “Half formed memories shouldn’t be relied upon. You have no proof.”

Ven’s mouth quirks up. “Well then. I suppose you’ll have to prove it to me, won’t you?”

Vanitas stares at him, and Ven thinks he looks more vulnerable here than any other time he can think of. Ven holds out his hand. Vanitas doesn’t look at it, holding eye contact instead.

“I don’t know if I can be the person I was to you in Sora’s heart again,” Vanitas warns. “I don’t know who that person is.”

“I don’t know him either,” Ven says easily. “I only know you. I can tell the others that you’re still here – we can get you a new body, just like Roxas and Xion. We can move forward from here, together. But apart,” he quickly tacks on.

Vanitas lets out a huff that could be taken for a laugh. “Only you could make this situation out to be anything near positive,” he murmurs. Carefully, gently, he takes Ven’s hand. He palm is rough. Ven squeezes it, lets it drop between them casually. It feels right. Vanitas lets out a shaky sigh beside him, and Ven can tell that he’s thinking the same thing.

“You can prove Xehanort wrong,” Ven whispers.

“Well, Ventus,” Vanitas says. “That’s easily the most sensible thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Ven can’t help it. He throws back his head and laughs, even when Vanitas swats his shoulder. His heart knows this, knows that he and Vanitas belong together.

He doesn’t know where they’re headed now, the future as murky as the darkness around them; but as long as they’re together, Ven is ready to take on anything that comes their way.

**Author's Note:**

> This was partially inspired by bookwormally's fic where Ven and Van share a body - I hope you liked my take on it!


End file.
